


Too Much, Too Fast

by orphan_account



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Being a Teenager, Norman Osborn is creepy D:, Other Characters are in here, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker-centric, Peter interacting with people in his life, Peter is depressed and won't admit it, Precious Peter Parker, Tony and Peter make up eventually, probably, unimportant but Peter is definitely 5'5", who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter falls in and out of poverty, friendships, relationships, and the fact that Mr. Stark still hasn't talked to him. If anyone asks? He's doing fine.





	Too Much, Too Fast

**Author's Note:**

> MCU based for the most part, inspiration from various spider-man comics and shows. Ben Urich from ultimateverse.

“Peter! Peter Parker!”

At the start of the break Peter had gotten a job at the Daily Bugle, operating as IT extraordinaire (and occasional photographer on the weeks Aunt May has trouble maintaining double shifts at the hospital). Even though Jameson, the owner, is difficult to talk to, the rest of the employees there tend to be nice enough.

Mr. Stark would probably be disappointed, but Mr. Stark doesn't know because he hasn't texted Peter in three months. The most interaction he'd gotten was a voicemail telling him to stop bothering Happy. Which was great. Just great.

When Peter turns around, he’s unsurprised to see Ben Urich. Ben, since Peter’s first day on the job, had been particularly accepting of his presence in the office; they'd gotten to some pretty interesting conversations about Ben's job over lunch. Ben was a good reporter, and he'd gotten good things to report over the years. Ben had even protested the slandering of Spider-Man...which won him some points with Peter. Unfortunately, talking Jameson down from the Spiderman-bashing was an impossible task, but you get what you can get.

“Hey Ben, what's up?” Peter asks swiveling around in his chair.

Ben's got an easy, sly smile on his face “Well I was thinking, now that we're not working on the Fisk case or anything too dangerous, you could go out and get some journalism action with me.”

“Oh, that’s not really my thing,” Peter twirls his hands together , “I'm more of a computer guy.” he points to where he's currently editing the Bugle’s website on his office desk-top.

“Come on, it'll be fun! Besides you just have to photograph stuff. I’d rather work with you than Brock.”

“Okay… maybe. But it's not tonight right? I have plans tonight.”

Ben puts one of his hands on Peter's shoulder and pats it a couple times, “How's Thursday at 9 sound?”

Peter sighs, returning to his work. He’s definitely going to regret this.

-

May shakes her head at Peter's outstretched hand, “We're not getting Cheez Wiz Peter.” 

“But it's so good! I mean, don't you enjoy the taste of artificial cheese on all of your crackers?” Of course, Peter isn't really going to get the Cheez Wiz. 

Today was Wednesday, Wednesday was the day that Peter and Aunt May loaded up on every coupon book available and ran over to the grocery store at the last minute. Thanks to May's hectic shifts and Peter's part time job, they had been struggling to keep up the tradition of going together, but today they both managed to get out of the apartment at five.

He puts the can back on the shelf, still laughing a little as May shuffles some generic brand sandwich slices into the cart.

Peter’s shoes are still fairly new, and they still squeak a little against the tile floor. He’d gotten his bag stolen around the end of the school year by Flash, and he still hasn’t gotten any of his things (which included his shoes) back yet. Flash and Peter used to be friends when they were younger, but over time the other teenager had become more and more antagonistic towards his once good friend.

Harry had been angry at him too.

Peter missed him.

Peter missed Ben.

Peter missed a lot of people.

-

Peter feels something when he’s swinging in the suit.

It's not fear.

There's joy, and a little bit of giddy pride where he thinks of the fact no one else is getting to do this.

Iron Man can fly but he's caught up in a giant metal contraption. He doesn't feel the wind, like Peter does. Also too busy to say hello, but that wasn’t majorly important.

Motion keeps Peter occupied, gives him something to do. Late at night he could focus on getting home instead of thinking about Ben. At least people couldn’t say he wasn’t responsible now, Mr. Stark would probably tell him he was too responsible and yell at him to go do stupid kid things. 

And Peter did. Sometimes, he remembers Harry Osborn’s pretty, strong-jawed freckly face when he punched it in, or sliding his hands over Michelle's when she offered him coffee and leaned in close- and still hasn't talked to her about it for weeks now.

God, if only Mr. Stark knew about the Osborns. Peter would never hear the end of it. Well, at least it would give the man a damn reason to stop by and maybe ask how he was doing , at the very least.

Then he's lifting his window and shucking off his suit. Aunt May must have heard because she calls out a quick “You're cutting it close, mister!” Peter then spares a look at his alarm clock and, yes, he's cutting it pretty close.

Ever since May had found him that day with his suit on and grinning at the mirror like an idiot she’d enforced a strict set of rules. Well, he'd gotten the rules after two weeks of arguing and stressed silences filling the apartment. It only ended after “It's my fault Uncle Ben died.” had left his lips. He remembers, after a moment of tense silence, May sighed, her calloused fingers sliding over her forehead in resignation. Peter took this as a wordless "ok" to go on. Details of the event spilled from his lips, the reality of coming to face the man who killed his uncle before he'd killed his uncle. Peter had cried into the folds of her worn cardigan, and she'd pulled out a piece of paper and said, “We'll make rules.” 

Peter had still managed to get home by 12 every night since then.

It was easier now, nothing big had risen up since the Toomes incident. Except, as always, a couple of gangs acting up in Hell’s Kitchen which Daredevil was dealing with,something Peter didn’t want to get in the way of. Tonight was a grand total of three attempted car thefts, five muggers, one cat in a tree, and two people with groceries (one was an older woman who had a lot of them hung off her walker, one was a younger man who was on crutches).

He walked into the living room just in time to see May getting up from the couch. She’s still got her scrubs on, apparently not having bothered to change out of them since she had gotten home. May turns to Peter, “I still wish you wouldn’t do this.” 

He sucks in a breath through his nose. “I have to.”

“I know you do, Peter.” 

-

Michelle is awfully pretty, even when she’s giving him the middle finger, or yelling at him to pay attention at decathlon practice. 

He’d noticed her a lot more recently. The curly hair, and how each day it falls over her shoulder in a slightly different way, or how she puts it up in a bun, or the way her sharp brown eyes scan the page of whatever book she’s reading, and her eyebrows push to a point between her eyes, and the passionate anger in her face in the middle of a debate. She’s also got really nice legs. He noticed one day when she wore these really cute jeans.

Ned tells him he’s just going through a phase, like he went through with Liz.

Peter gets a little bit frustrated at that, because Liz was never meant to be a phase. Peter really did like Liz. He remembered, after the entire vulture incident was done, the anger and hurt in her face when she looked at him. The senior, of course, tried to hide it. Peter cried some in his bed that night, against his pillow case, could feel shame fill up every bit of him.

Sometimes it felt like all he did was hurt people, in and out of costume.

Peter had finally managed to convince MJ to give him her number a while ago, and they’d kept in touch via text since then. It was getting harder not to notice her when they went to the movies and she started deconstructing every film. God, she was really smart. And cool. Amazing.

Even if Ned doesn’t always get it, he was still a good friend. Ned comes over practically every day, he doesn't of course, but he does come over every two or three and on the occasion drags along his wii. They set it up on Peter’s old TV and play bad video games for hours. 

Eventually May comes around to remind them that sleep is important and sends Ned home. Peter should probably count himself lucky the other boy still hasn’t slipped up and called him Spider-Man in public.

But god, it’s nice to have a friend.

-

Tonight’s the night Peter goes with Ben to whatever this journalism thing is. By request, he puts on a nice dress shirt and pants picked out by May from the dusty remains of Ben’s closet. Peter feels a pang of sorrow when she rolls the sleeves up and can’t meet his eyes. He stuffs his more casual work clothes in his bag and heads downstairs to meet up with Ben. The older man puts a camera around his neck and tells him they’re going to walk there instead of going via subway because it’s fairly close by.

It turns out that what they’re going to is some ritzy party, Ben goes around socializing and asking questions, introducing Peter as his plus one mentee of sorts. Peter just flashes the probably really famous people a nervous smile and shakes their hands, hoping that they don’t notice his sweaty palms.

He feels underdressed compared to all the people dressed to the nines in intricate gowns and fancy suits surrounding him. He occasionally takes a picture when he sees something interesting or Ben points at something important, he’s so glad he’s not required to talk.

as he awkwardly tails Ben like a duckling, a hand suddenly shoots out, grabbing his shoulder with an unknown force. In the blink of an eye, the mysterious hand whisks him around, putting him face to face with the stranger's chest. Peter’s first thought is of course to curse his lack of height, and he’s about to ask who the hell it is when he gets a look at the man’s face.

“What are you doing here Pete?”

Of course, it’s Osborn. Harry’s ginger hair has been styled, to keep out of his perfect face, his nose that Peter had broke the last time the two of them talked has been fixed up (Harry’s Dad had probably paid for the whole thing to be redone because it looks even better than it used to, UGH) and he’s got some fashionable white tux to hug his broad shoulders. Peter realizes that it has probably been tailored, considering how snug it was around Harry’s chest.

He swallows down the thick knot in his throat. “I’m taking pictures,” he says lamely, “for the Bugle.” 

Peter looks around frantically for an escape, for Ben. The man seems distracted from where he’s offering a glass of wine to the police chief and his pretty blonde daughter who looks bored with the whole affair.

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” Harry says, almost surprised, though the expression morphs into more of a grimace.

“I didn’t think I would either, to be honest.”

Harry groans “Listen, I don’t want to be here probably as much as you don’t want to either, let me just say…” the other teenager struggles for a minute. “I’m sorry, about what happened.”

“It’s fine, Harry.” It’s really not, and sometimes Peter still thinks about his friend’s hands around his collar, slamming him into the lockers. It never really hurt, after all Peter was Spider-Man, but the hate on Harry’s face did. Struck something inside of him that made him just punch the other boy’s face in. “We were both being idiots.”

“I didn’t know...”

“I know you didn’t, Harry.”

Harry wraps his hand around Peter’s forearm and keeps it there. Suddenly, Peter is aware of how close they are to one another, Harry is leaning over and pressed tight, compared to the other socialites flitting about under the way too bright chandelier. “Listen Pete, I really am sorry, you’re my best friend and-” 

“It’s okay Harry.” Peter rushes, cutting the other off, “Can you let me go?”

Harry lets go of Peter like his hand has been burned and looks at him with something resembling longing. “You should go off to take your pictures before my Dad sees you, he might just kidnap you, considering you haven’t been around lately.”

“I’ll come over sometime, okay?”

Harry nods.

-

The rest of the night is filled with more anxious introductions and a couple times Ben reels him into conversation and Peter proceeds to stumble his way through. The only person he’d actually had something interesting to talk about with was Gwen Stacy, (Chief Stacy’s daughter) who is considering moving schools to Midtown after hers got destroyed in a recent villain attack, they exchange numbers and Peter shrinks off after Ben when Chief Stacy casts a glare at him over his daughter’s shoulder.

He makes awkward eye contact with Harry’s father, but scuttles away quickly before the mogul can try to say something to him, that guy has always been creepy.

When he gets home late after the party, he begs May to let him patrol late. 

She finally gives in as she’s heading out the door in her scrubs and tells him to get back by 3:30, Peter kisses her cheek.

-

Peter is in the middle of punching an attempted rapist in the face when a random thought pops into his head: Harry's dad is obsessed with him. Its an interesting thought, one that occured at an inopportune moment considering the circumstances, but interesting nevertheless.Harry’s dad is rich, and owns a tech company. One of the many created in order to fill the hole Mr. Stark’s hault of weapon production produced.

Norman Osborn is a bad dad. He’s not the worst guy ever, no, he's not kicking puppies and kidnapping orphans. Though the guy isn’t a complete piece of trash, he does have his sucky qualities. He’s a workaholic, short-tempered, and ridiculously harsh on his son. It’s one of the biggest reasons Peter was so sympathetic towards Harry.

Because his dad was more interested in Peter than his own son.

God it was weird.

Peter should’ve gone to Harry in the hospital, after the incident. But he didn't, because Ben was dead, and Peter was Spider-Man and he’d completely forgotten about his best friend.

Harry’s mother was dead now.

Harry was in the hospital and his mother was dead and he was left alone with his angry asshole of a father. His best friend never visited him in the hospital because he was too busy with his dead uncle’s blood on his hands. Of course, Harry had only thought that he was being a jerk.

Peter turns to the woman who’s still shaking and tries to button her blouse back up with trembling fingers, “You alright?” 

She looks up and nods frantically. “Good,” Peter says “Do you think-uh, do you think you could call the cops?” he points to the unconscious man stuck on the concrete. She nods again as she gets her collar fixed up. 

“Thank you so much, Spider-Man. Thank you.” 

Peter gives her a little salute and wave.

-

When he thinks of the woman’s eyes filling up with tears, and holding them back as she dials the police on her cellphone, he feels good. That tonight that woman can go home to her family and friends, and instead of crying in shame, she can say “And Spider-Man saved me!”

He doesn’t have a personal thing against rapists, definitely not, but he feels particularly good when he puts one of them away. Again, it’s not a personal thing.

Except it is, but Peter doesn’t like to think about Skip and how he was still out there, even if he was in jail.

He punches the wall when he gets home. He’ll apologize to May later.

-

Peter remembered the day Flash got one of his football buddies to come up behind Peter and kick him into his locker. Peter can still feel the heavy foot pushing into his back and his face smash into the unforgiving metal. Peter had heard something in his face crack, and felt blood trickle past his fingers. Falling to the floor, his hands had frantically covered his bleeding nose.

“What the fuck, Kong?” all he got in response to his anger was laughter, Peter returned for a moment to stare blankly at his bloody lips and hands. 

Harry had caught up with him on his way to the nurse’s office and sat with him as the older woman offered him tissues and a call home, Peter couldn’t call home, but he thanked her anyway.

“Their lives peaked about two weeks ago Pete, you’re going to be a famous scientist someday, aren’t you?” Harry had said, throwing his arm around his shoulder. Peter had just mumbled a thanks and laid down on the cheap school cot, thank god he hadn’t gotten a concussion.

“Why don’t you ever stop them Harry? They wouldn’t mess with you.” 

Peter's been to the nurse's office so often he can say without doubt that the ceiling there consists of 22 white tiles, and the one in the back left corner had been replaced three weeks ago. The lighting is bright, and Peter thinks that's dumb because kids get headaches all the time and the lights there would only make it worse. 

“I can’t." Harry says, and Peter knows Harry can't, because any more trouble and he'd get a suspension. Harry would rather be here, than at home. 

-

The first time Peter had met Mr. Osborn was on the day after his 13th birthday.

Harry had invited him over to their lavish mansion, and given him a computer as a birthday gift, which Peter had thanked him endlessly for. The computer was a brand new OsCorp design, it hadn’t even been on the market yet! It was a great replacement for the mess he had rebuilt in his room from dumpster parts so he could do schoolwork. Something he could actually do regular computer things on.

Harry’s chefs made him an entire intricate cake professionally decorated with a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETER in the middle in Star Wars styled letters. It was chocolate, and Harry's mother ate with them. She was extremely kind but didn’t look very much like Harry, they said he had gotten all his looks from his Dad.

Struggling to clean out his braces in front of a mirror in one of the mansion’s many bathrooms Peter saw Norman Osborn for the first time. It was true, Harry had gotten his looks from his father.

What a god damn scene that had been. It ended up with Peter talking to a grown man about some pretty serious research material he’d read from doctor Octavius and how much he loved the man’s work. God, Peter was such a nerd. After the conversation came to a close, Peter once again found himself alone as Norman stormed off. The man was muttering something under his breath about calling a doctor to discuss an experiment. Peter wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to stay to find out.

Peter didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but, not wanting to face it, turned and ran back to Harry’s room.

-

A couple weeks later had Peter in the rain with a flat bicycle tire. Unable to swing to school like he does now, he was trudging on foot through the rain with the bike trailing along beside him.

“Hey Pete! Need a ride?”

Queue Harry pulling over in the backseat of an expensive looking car, and opening the door, showing off the warm, tempting interior of the car . Peter stared hopelessly at his bicycle before Harry just sighed and helped him stuff it into the middle row with them. Peter’s knees awkwardly bumped against it and into the seat.

He realized a little too late that for once it wasn’t Harry’s butler driving him, but his father had actually picked up his keys and was driving his son to school. “Hi Peter,” the older man said “You know I talked with Octavius about some of your ideas they were great, he really loved them.”

Peter hummed, and for a moment his and Norman’s eyes made contact in the rearview mirror for a second.

They couldn’t get to school quick enough.

-

Harry Osborn calls him on Saturday while he’s at lunch with Michelle, and against some better judgement and MJ’s frown, Peter answers. MJ gives him a hard look as he turns away from their burgers and fries, “Sorry, it’s Harry, I can’t just ignore himt.”

She sighed, her face jokingly scrunched up in displeasure as she stuck her tongue out at him. However, behind that mask of playful disgust there was something akin to hurt. Peter tried not to think about it.

He took the call. “Hey Harry, what’s up?”

“Hey Pete.” Harry takes a deep breath as if gathering the confidence to say whatever’s next. “I know this is a little awkward, but do you want to come over sometime soon? Like I said, it’s been a while.” Peter takes a moment to consider it, munching on a french fry.

“I can come over tomorrow? Or we could go out somewhere?”

Harry’s tone audibly lightens up and grows happy, “Yeah I’d really like that, I can pick you up at your place at like 12 or something?”

“Sure, sorry. Listen, call me later, I’m at lunch with MJ.”

Harry offers a quick apology, and they both say goodbye before hanging up

MJ looks as if she’s sucked on a particularly sour lemon. “You’re back to talking to Harry?”

Peter nods, and raises an eyebrow, “Yeah, I met up with him at the party I went to with Ben, it seems like he’s doing better.” 

“Oh my god, you don’t get it, do you Peter?” Michelle groans loudly, muttering something under her breath.

“Get what?”

Silence answers him. After a few more failed attempts at conversation, MJ purposely waits to take the train after his when they head home.

-

So he doesn’t get what MJ is mad about. He’s talking to Harry, and that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Apparently she doesn’t think so. Peter also has the biggest dumbest crush on her, and her storming out really, really kind of hurt.

So he calls her the next day, “MJ what did I do wrong?”

She sighs, “It’s six in the morning Peter.”

“I’m sorry, just, did I do something wrong? If I did something you know you can tell me.”

There’s shuffling on the other side, “You didn’t do anything Peter, you’re just a big idiot sometimes, you know that?”

He splutters and flails out of his sheets, “I am not!”

Peter can hear her laugh on the other end “Come on loser, let’s go out on Monday, we can talk about it then. We can go to that new movie. I’ll pay for it to make up for walking out on you.” 

“Shouldn’t I pay for it? I’m the guy.”

“Conforming to gender roles are we? I’m ashamed of you Peter Benjamin Parker, absolutely ashamed.”

-

Harry can drive now, and Peter can’t help but gape when the expensive sports car pulls up in front of his crummy apartment building and Harry rolls down the window. “Your ride has arrived, Pete.”

Peter hops in the passenger seat, but not before thoroughly running his hands over the smooth leather. “Oh my god, Harry.”

Harry flashes him an award winning smile, shimmery white teeth practically blinding Peter with their glow . “I know, isn’t she beautiful? sixteenth birthday present from dad.”

Peter’s stops his excited poking at the dashboard. “Oh my god, Harry, I totally forgot, I never got you anything for your birthday-fuck I just… I’m sorry”

“It’s okay Peter, I missed your fifteenth, just make it up to me next time, okay?”

Peter throws his arms around Harry’s shoulders. “I love you so much.”

Peter returns to his seat and buckles in, barely catching a blush on Harry’s face before they’re speeding away.

-

“So, MJ, huh? You guys aren’t dating, are you?”

Peter sits down next to Harry where he seems to be messing with the remote, attempting to get his overly complicated entertainment center to try and play a movie. “No, I mean…” Peter flails a hand around, “I don’t think so?” he stops flailing when his bowl of cheetos puffs almost falls off his lap.

“How can you not know?” Peter shrugs in response and kicks his socked feet up on Harry’s lap. “I mean you should know if you’re dating, it’s not that hard to tell.”

“I mean I totally love her and everything, but I don’t know if she reciprocates, she probably just sees me as a friend, even though we go out like all the time. She might also be a lesbian? I mean, she’s definitely bi, at the very least” Harry’s arm falls over his calves, it’s an awfully familiar gesture “Why are you asking?”

“No reason, want to make sure you didn’t magically become a charmer while I was gone.” Harry says, hand tightening around Peter’s calf.

Right, Harry’s leave to homeschool after the incident. “I wish. Do you even think she likes me?”

Harry scoffs, “In your dreams, Pete.” The redhead laughs as Peter shoots him an incredulous look, his face full of mock-offended pleasure.

-

Tony Stark texts him the next day after work, Peter ignores it. Then, the man decides to call him.

“What were you doing at OsCorp?”

Peter is shocked by the immediate question, because wow. Months later, Tony calls him and it’s about OsCorp, did Mr. Stark think he was up to something? Sure, Peter brought his suit to the building, but he also brought his suit everywhere he went.

“Visiting my friend.”

“You shouldn’t go to OsCorp, kid, for your own good.” 

“Why is that, Mr. Stark? Because I was under the impression you didn’t really care, considering you haven’t talked to me for three months. Now, you come out of nowhere you’re telling me I can’t hang out with my best friend? for my own good?!-” Peter knows he sounds a little angry, and maybe it’s a little lame that his voice cracks “Besides, are you still checking the tracker? That’s a total invasion of my privacy.”

“Because OsCorp is shady, kid. Besides, I thought Ned was your best friend?”

“Shows how much you know.”

“Peter what’s-”

Peter hangs up on Mr. Stark mid-sentence, he should feel good. All he feels is bitter.

-

Peter can’t stay interested in the movie, because, quite frankly, it’s really bad. From the dreadful pacing to the badly delivered and badly written one liners. He feels awful that he made her pay for it. MJ seems bored too, now that they’ve run out of popcorn and diet coke.

She abruptly gets up from her seat and grabs his hand, whisking them both out of the seating area and into the theatre hallway. 

Out in the hallway, there’s a dim yellow light cast onto the sticky red carpet and Michelle’s face. She seems serious, and sure she’s been intense and angry before but there’s something different to her this time. Something more vulnerable, unsure. “Um, MJ? What’s up? I know the movie wasn't great or anything but why are we.. ?”

“Is this a date, Peter?”

Peter doesn’t know how to reply. “What do you mea-”

“It’s a simple yes or no question, Peter.”

“I mean, it probably is if you like me? Like, like-like me?”

Michelle takes a big breath of air, and, a little embarrassed, says “Yes, at the risk of sounding like a fifth grader, I like-like you Peter.” Peter feels his chest explode, he can feel the erratic thrumming of heart can be felt all over his body, even reaching down to his fingertips and toes.

“Then it’s a date.”

“It’s a date then.”

-

Tony Stark is in his apartment. Tony Stark is, once again sitting on his couch, elbows propped up on the back of the seat. This time there's Aunt May because she’s working, ulike Mr. Stark, apparently.

“What are you doing here?” 

“OsCorp is dangerous, Peter,” Tony says as the boy drops his bag next to the door.

“You kind of said that already,”

“I’m serious Peter, they’re under investigation for some pretty serious crimes right now and I don’t want you getting involved in that. I’ll tell you the same thing I said aout Toomes, this is something for people like the FBI to handle, not Spider-Man.”

“I wasn’t there as Spider-Man, Mr. Stark! I know Harry Osborn, okay? We actually hung out last night, you could ask him. I mean, don’t ask him, because he’s my friend and that’d be weird if you went and asked him if we hung out. I mean, all we did was watch movies but it’s still kind of awkward after everything. Also, I’m pretty sure Norman Osborn hates you and I definitely haven’t talked to those two about knowing you and-”

Mr. Stark is caught off guard by that, “Fuck, that complicates things.” Tony sighs, “Okay, if you’re friends, I can’t stop you. But Norman Osborn isn’t a good guy, just promise me you won’t get involved in this sort of thing?”

“I didn’t even know it was a thing! And trust me, I’m not exactly best friends with his creepy dad.”

Peter finally sits down in a chair across from the playboy. “Listen, Mr. Stark,” He sighs, “You’re like my role model, you’re really cool and everything, but can you at least tell me why it took you this long to check in on me?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy Peter. Listen… you like science right?” Tony stands up “Right, kids like science, and you do a lot. Come over to the compound,you can mess about in the labs. Text us, we’ll text you back, okay?”

Peter doesn’t want to admit that’s everything he’s wanted since he was eight years old, and Iron Man saved his life and told him he did a good job. All he’s ever wanted to do was work by this amazing man, and all this man has done has been to make him fight Captain America and to let him down. 

Peter feels easy.

He wishes the door would hit Tony on the way out.

It doesn’t.

-

The normally empty room is filled with Neds comfortable presence and idle chatter. The ease in which his friend fits into his room as if its his own is comforting to Peter. The tense muscles in his back relax as he winds down from the drama of the past few days and welcomes the familiar change that Ned bring. It’s nice, to have a break of normalcy among everything in his life. “So you and MJ huh?”

“Yeah, I’m just, so happy? Like who knew? I’m so in love, Ned, I really love her, like I would totally marry her and everything.”

“Yeah, I know.” the other boy frowns, “I just always thought you and Harry were going to eventually get together or something.” Peter almost spits his lemonade out onto the carpet, but stops himself last second, setting the glass of it next to his greasy pizza plate.

“What? I had a crush on Harry months ago, and he’s actually had like girlfriends and stuff. After everything, I don’t think there’s any chance. Also, I’ve talked about how much I love MJ for weeks? Harry is great and all, but not only am I with MJ, Harry would never date me.”

“Yeah, dude, but… Harry's been in love with you for years.”

-

Peter barely sleep that night.

Sometimes it’s the simplest things that remind him of Skip, but sometimes it’s a big thing. Like the fact the prison where the man was currently staying had a huge outbreak last night.

Peter doesn’t bother to check if Skip has gotten out or not, but the thought occurs to him that even in the span of years from then till now he still lives in the same apartment, in the same room, and if Peter wasn’t Spider-Man, Skip could easily sneak in and-

Peter passes out on the couch. They end up having to buy a new remote because the last one ends up in pieces because Peter crushes it in his hand when he sleeps. Peter can’t apologize enough.

-

“Listen, Peter, I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Aunt May. Promise.”

-

It’s a slow week of work and patrols, Ned comes over on Thursday, Jameson has a meltdown on Friday, it’s fairly normal. Oh! Peter finally got the website finished, which helped cheer up his boss before he ended up in the hospital with a popped blood vessel.

On Saturday, he has to head to the tower.

-

Happy looks a little guilty as he takes Peter’s bags. Peter takes them back and they head up to a guest room Mr. Stark set up for him.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I honestly thought-”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to yell at you the other night, okay? Let’s forget it.” 

He’s still happy when Tony lets him help with some of his projects set up in the lab. He feels himself falling into excited rambling over some of the equipment and blushes. It’s too easy to laugh.

-

On Sunday, he lets himself cry for five minutes, and excuses himself from the compound go on a date with MJ. Tony stops him as he steps into the car. “Listen kid, I really am sorry I didn’t call. You can call me anytime.”

Peter remembers, as his fingers fidget and slide the window up and down, that Mr. Stark had a horrible father.

He hopes that Happy enjoys the voicemail he left after patrol that night.

-

“I know you’re Spider-Man, Peter.”

“What? H-How?”

“Stark internship.” MJ gives air quotes and takes a sip of her strawberry milkshake.

“Well thanks for the subtlety.” Peter buries his head in his hands and grumbles, “I mean, is it that easy to tell? I thought I was at least semi-decent at hiding it.”

“I’m very observant. Also, Ned was the one who confirmed my suspicions.”

“Oh yeah-” Peter’s head shoots up, “When was someone going to tell me that Harry liked me? I had no idea, I mean that’s why you were mad wasn’t it? Because I’m a big idiot who can’t tell when people like me. Man, why couldn’t Harry tell me? He was asking if I was dating you, I should’ve been able to tell. I’m a huge idiot.”

“Yes. You are.”

He groans and lets his head smack into the tabletop.

-

Harry pulls up in his car on Monday, and Peter immediately says “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell.”

Peter kicks the sidewalk, “I’m dating MJ now, and I really like you Harry, but I had a crush on you months ago, and I love my girlfriend that I have now, and… and I love you Harry, you’re my friend, I’m sorry I’m a big idiot, I’m still your friend, always.”

Harry looks like someone has made him drink bleach. “I get it, I get it Pete.” 

Harry drives off.

Shit.

Maybe he’s a little violent on patrol that day, and he might leave some of the details out when he gives his report to Happy. Maybe the next day he just doesn't send in a report, and no one notices it.

Peter didn't really expect them to.

It still hurts.

-

When he gets to work the next day, Ben asks him why he’s so exhausted Peter finds himself lost for words, a myriad of reasons popping into his mind, overwhelming him. In the end, he just makes up some lame, typical excuse. Ben accepts it, albeit with a suspicious tilt of an eyebrow. Peter sighs, and continues to file papers.

**Author's Note:**

> Got inspiration while avoiding homework, going to write more later. Peter Parker is a good boy, thanks. 
> 
> Really cool person rinnyki here on AO3 helped me smooth it out, so kudos to them they are the best TM.


End file.
